


No Inn at the Room

by Missy



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Inns, Kissing, Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Multi, Road Trips, Romance, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 12:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Gal, Sid and Isabella share a bed when the inn they've booked is overcrowded.  By the end of the night, motives are questioned, attraction comes knocking, and they figure out that perfect harmony has its perks.





	No Inn at the Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



They had travelled through blizzards. Through rainstorms so soaking their underwear was still damp. Through blazing deserts and terrible windstorms. 

And it was only Tuesday.

After many days, they reached something that seemed to be familiar territory. Finally, the land before them more closely resembled what they were used to – big forests and lush, rolling hills. It was almost a relief to come around in a circle, to see something that looked like Valencia once more. Sid was sitting tall in his saddle, unconsciously harmonizing with Isabella’s humming. Gal resisted joining in. Heroes did not believe in back-up singing after all.

Sid said, “Hmm, that sounds so sweet and pretty. What’s it called?”

“Cut the Fat King’s head off,” Isabella said.

“How poetic,” Galavant said. The untrammeled ground was starting to resemble a cobbled path again. Soon they were emerging from the clearing into a small town.

“Oh my God, an inn,” Isabella sighed. “Warm water, cool beer, a soft bed…”

“Toothless cheating innkeepers, angry mobs looking for a fight, bedbugs, food that tastes like mothballs…“ Gal supplied.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Isabella said.

“Couldn’t be worse than eating rabbits and getting dysentery on the trail.”

“The Way Inn,” Sid said, reciting the name on the sign set before them. “Huh. Someone likes puns.”

“I don’t know why, they’re the lowest form of humor,” Isabella said. She was hitching her horse at the front of the inn already. They were going to finally get a real meal and a rest after foraging and sleeping on and off the land for a full week, and even Galavant was somewhat excited about that.

“What about puppet shows?” Galavant asked. 

“Are we going to complain or are we going to eat?” Sid asked.

“I choose eating,” Gal said.

“I think I’ll make eating puns,” Isabella said lightly. 

“Please don’t,” Gal said through his teeth.

“You’re looking a gift pun in the mouth,” she said.

“That’s not a pun – that’s wordplay,” Gal protested. But he was smiling. Being with Isabella and Sid was fun most of the time. They had a tendency to make it that way. He often didn’t think before falling into sweet rhythm with them both. It was natural.

 

 

*** 

 

The Inn itself was well-run and clean – and even Gal had to admit their food was delicious. There was even a floor show about pot pies, the house specialty. It certainly managed to work out the heaviness of said pie, and left the entire group of them feeling light.

While paying for their meal and waiting for that room key, he heard Sid say, “I didn’t think I was going to have to breakdance. My elbow’s still sore.”

“You did well,” Isabella encouraged. “I didn’t think you could do kip-ups.”

“That’s the third thing kids in my village learn how to do! You crawl, you walk, and you kip-up.”

“Mister Galavant,” the innkeeper said, “I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a problem with your arrangement.”

“I knew it,” he muttered. Then, more pleasantly, he asked, “what sort of problem?”

“Well, y’see, there’s a jester convention in town. We’re all booked up. You do have a room, but it’s only got one bed. Hopefully you don’t mind sharing.”

He glanced at Sid and Isabella, who didn’t have the decency to look even slightly unintrigued by this prospect. “All right. I suppose we’ll draw straws for the rug.”

“Nonsense. We’ve been sleeping head to foot for weeks,” Isabella said. “there’s nothing wrong with sharing a bed.”

“All right then,” Galavant said. “If no one minds then I’m not going to complain.”

“Me either!” Sid said. Then he whispered askance to Galavant, “I do still get paid, don’t I?”

“Yes,” he said. “Eventually.” Perhaps after the jewel of Valencia were rescued. 

*** 

The innkeeper led them to their room – warm, clean, pleasantly decorated, and centered around a large, canopied bed. The three of them paused with their bags, staring at the enormous bed. 

“All right. Should we pull lots? Draw straws? Settle things with a duel?”

“Not a duel,” Sid said. “Isabella could beat me with one hand tied behind her back!”

“What about me?” 

“We all know how brave you are, Gal,” Isabella said, flopping onto the bed. “It’s definitely large enough for all three of us. I suppose learning to share would be properly healthy.”

Gal and Sid shared worried, guilty looks. “Are you sure this is proper? You’re a princess, after all,” Sid said.

“Again: we’ve shared camp. You’ve washed my underthings. I think that sharing a bed might not be the strangest thing we’ve done in the past few weeks.”

“Fair enough,” said Gal. He sat beside her, with Sid to his left. They took off their shoes and ended up in shifts and hose, respectively, ignoring the awkwardness, the heat in their cheeks.

Then they shrugged and laid down on the mattress.

Loud, satisfied groans filled the air. “This is…good,” Galavant groaned, basso profundo.

“The mattress is so soft, and so warm,” Isabella said.

“And the body heat really is a bonus.”

Soon they were kicking down the quilts and pulling them back up to their chins. 

“This is surprisingly natural.” Isabella said.

“I wonder why it feels that way,” Galavant said.

“Why does this feel so…comfortable?” Isabella wondered. She stretched and sighed, and wrapped her arms around Gal’s neck.

“Because you’ve been hiding a crush on Isabella for months,” Sid said. “And you have a crush on Galavant, and I think I’ve had a crush on you since you pretended to be my wife, and maybe you’ve been crushing on me since then. And of course Galavant and I’ve been having some major tension going on for years.”

“I suppose we have, but when did you get so observant?” Galavant asked.

“You don’t spend days singing in perfect harmony for weeks without noticing some things,” Sid said.

“But, well…what are we going to do when this is over?” Isabella asked.

“Why should we ask questions? This is comfortable,” Sid said, and kissed the nape of Isabella’s neck. “It feels good,” he said, and pecked Gal on the lips. “So why should we fight it?”

“He has a point,” Isabella said.

“True,” Galavant yawned. “And we do have a hero’s quest to complete – that’s a little more important than worrying about labels.” 

 

***

 

They lay together until the sunlight, sleeping contentedly, arms wrapped around each other, dreaming of glory, guilt, and joy.

Gal woke once when Sid accidentally kneed him in the behind. But then he sank into luxurious comfort. Sid was warm and comfortable against Gal’s back, and Isabella yawned kittenishly in his face…and then started to snore like a water buffalo.

Galavant smiled and burrowed into their embraces. He hadn’t felt this content in a very, very long time.


End file.
